


He's Making a List, Checking it Twice

by mercurysensei



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 23:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9146413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurysensei/pseuds/mercurysensei
Summary: When a youth charity organization offered sports teams the opportunity to staff Santa displays for the day in exchange for equipment, they didn’t expect this result.Written for the xmasouji exchange :)





	

“If Santa is omniscient, I really don’t see why children would wish to see him at the mall.”

As he sniffed a pair of horribly festive leggings from a selection of elf costumes, Kamio acknowledged Ibu with a vague noise. Merry clothing for every holiday character imaginable filled the overflowing bins in the seasonal storage room, but most of it was either mysteriously stained or stretched beyond rescue.

Ibu, rather unconcerned with his costume, stood behind Kamio and continued speaking. “It’s rather like cheating. If Santa can really see me when I’m sleeping and know when I’m awake, he should know what I want without a nation of youth lining up to sit on his lap. And if he can see me at all times, I don’t know why he couldn’t just wake me up every so often. I think I would prefer that to the alarm that you bought me last year. I find it disorienting, waking up to that intense pounding.”

“You need an intense pounding, to actually hear the alarm over your own voice,” Kamio murmured, holding the leggings up to Ibu and squinting to determine the fit.

“Are you volunteering, Kamio-kun?” An said, and laughed when Kamio straightened and flushed to match the Santa costumes behind him. An looked very cute in her Mrs Claus suit. It was enough to make any man want to move to the North Pole.

“I appreciate that, Akira, but I’m really not interested. Even if I liked the alarm clock we should probably just remain doubles partners. I would have to deal with that pounding all of the time--”

“SHINJI!” Kamio sputtered. “That’s not what I meant! An-chan, I promise--”

“Would you like the alarm clock, Tachibana-san? It comes with a pounding from Akira,” Ibu said, turning to face Tachibana, who had just emerged from a dressing room.

With an easy laugh and smile that matched his Santa suit, Tachibana said, “Aren’t I supposed to be the one distributing gifts?” While Kamio flailed, sparking away like a ticking time bomb, Tachibana plucked up a pair of antlers and put them on his head. “There – I think these suit you.”

An snapped a picture of Kamio and Tachibana. The photo very much resembled a picture one might find in an old temple treasure house: a transcended monk and worshipful disciple. “It’s true, Akira. You’re fast and your hair can light the way,” she said.

“I’m sorry for not being a redhead,” Ibu pulled the leggings and matching vest from the stunned Kamio. Even after he occupied a dressing room, he went on, “I think that I wouldn’t enjoy lighting up the night anyway. I was never afraid of the dark. My own hair would keep me awake and I wouldn’t be able to give away the alarm clock. Maybe Santa is willing to take gifts as well as give them.”

Seeming to collect himself, Kamio looked from his captain back to An. “As long as they pay us properly so we can get that new equipment, I don’t really care.”

“Yes, it’s quite lucky that we were able to participate in this event – there were many teams that wanted to sign up a day of their time for a donation. I heard that whatever display attracts the most customers will receive an extra bonus.”

“Well, the prize ain’t going to you, that’s for sure. What a sad looking cast.”

Turning toward the familiar voice, the members of Fudomine were surprised to see Kirihara Akaya standing in the doorway. His silhouette was different than usual. The devil Akaya flanked by his senpai might be intimidating on the court, but to see Yukimura, Yanagi, Niou, and Marui all dressed like figurines in a Christmas snow globe rather erased the threat. 

“We’ll be staffing the South mall,” Yukimura smiled as he advanced past Kirihara. Somehow, the fluffy red and white Santa coat balanced perfectly on his shoulders and flowed out behind him. Though Yukimura said, “Let’s work together to make this a wonderful Christmas,” his smile said, _We’re going to bury you._ He was not the Santa that anyone wanted in their house in the wee hours of the morning.

Tachibana stepped forward and stretched out his hand. “We look forward to working with you,” he said.

Yukimura gripped his hand. Tachibana kept it. Their forearms knotted with effort and the two captains smiled beatifically at each other.

“Akira-kun, I won’t spontaneously combust from looking at Kirihara-san,” An poked Kamio sharply in the side. He had been shielding her as if Rikkai’s back line would fire a line of arrows at any moment. “Shouldn’t you make sure we have everyone’s costume instead of standing in front of me?”

“Heh, is that fear?” Kirihara tossed his curls.

“Decency, so we don’t take everything and leave you naked. Nobody wants to see that for Christmas,” An took the list from Kamio and showed both teams her back.

Kirihara growled. Before he could advance, Marui shoved Kirihara’s elf-hat down over his eyes. While Kirihara swatted helplessly, Marui deftly kept out of his reach with little hops and turns.

“I apologize for her rudeness,” Tachibana bowed slightly, though the quirk in his lip suggested he was more amused than embarrassed.

“My little sister is the same way,” Yukimura said with a note of pride. “As for the costumes, please choose without reservation. We’re just here to pick up Sanada’s, as it took some time to find something that would fit him. Won’t you come out, Sanada?”

No one from Fudomine had known that one of the dressing rooms was occupied. Two large feet and bit of shuffling in response to Yukimura’s comment confirmed it.

“Does it not fit, fuku-buchou?” Niou teased, sidling up to the door. He was the only one out of the present Rikkai members not in costume. “Do you need me to zip you up?”

Before Niou could peek into the stall, the door swung violently open. The whole world stopped to witness the sight of the reindeer kigurumi clad Sanada, his muscles pushing the very limits of the fabric.

When even Niou was biting his lip, Ibu emerged from the dressing room to ruthlessly break the silence. “I don’t think that you’re meant to wear a hat under that kigurumi. Though I suppose it might be useful if you’re guiding a sleigh. There’s no sun at night, but the streetlights off the snow might cause some trouble. It could be more useful to wear something like a bonnet, to act like the kind of blinders that a horse might wear.”

Yanagi, the tallest elf among them, patted Sanada’s shoulder. “Not to worry. Our Genichirou is plenty single minded.”

Sanada blinked, his features crinkled with indecision. When it came to Rikkai, sometimes it simply wasn’t worth it to react.

“I’m afraid that we can’t waste any more time here. There’s already a line in front of our booth,” Yukimura said, gaze dealing Tachibana a passing blow. “Three stores deep.”

Rikkai’s Captain was assured of their victory on this day, just like any other.

“Come on, Sanada,” Yukimura said, giving power to Sanada’s feet, for it didn’t look like the reindeer wanted to leave the shop.

“We’ll follow you, let that nose lead the way,” Niou teased, swatting Sanada on the bum with a jingle belled glove as he sauntered out. The rest of Rikkai followed, ready to begin their quest for new uniforms.

Ibu broke Fudomine’s silence.

“Akira, I think you have another ten years before you can fill out a kigurumi like Sanada-san.”

“Kigurumi aren’t meant to be filled out!”

“But if you’re a reindeer, you should be able to handle Santa’s weight. In some places of the world, reindeer who can’t perform are made into sausage…I would feel quite sorry for any reindeer cooked by Tachibana-san. And I would feel quite sorry to have to eat it. Please prove your worth, Akira.”

“Tachibana-san! Please allow me to give you a piggyback!” Kamio turned around and squatted, bracing himself for the much taller teen.

Tachibana scratched his hair under the santa hat. “Again, aren’t people supposed to be sitting on my lap?”

 

~~~~~

 

A silly smile on his face, Marui stopped in his tracks in the middle of a busy mall corridor. Busy shoppers made some noise of annoyance and navigated around the stalled teenagers.

“Senpai…” Kirihara questioned. Yanagi pointed out the cinnamon bun stand nestled between Uniqlo and Three Coins. The wares wafted a tempting smell throughout the gallery, forcibly tempting customers from the stores.

“Jackal can handle it for just a bit longer…” Marui wiggled his fingers.

“Are you sure? If you outgrow those leggings, you’ll have to change from elf to Santa,” Yanagi commented. His lips minutely enough to make him truly look like an elf. Only the pointed ears were missing.

The comment didn’t seem to have done any damage. Marui was offended for an entirely different reason, “Red isn’t my color, and leggings WILL expand for cinnamon buns. I believe in spandex!”

“You’re going to turn into a cinnamon bun,” Yukimura chuckled, extending an arm across Marui’s shoulders to gently, but quite firmly guide him away from the sweets.

As they approached the display of lights and fir, the crowd of families thickened. Forcing their way through Christmas miasma, the brave members of Rikkai dodged wayward children and smiled peaceably at the stressed parents who would prefer to be getting on with their day. No one wished to spend a weekend in December in an unmoving line, regardless of the enchanting Christmas construction.

A thoroughly harassed Kuwahara Jackal, who had been passing out candy canes and chatting with children to calm the crowd, joined them at the front of the line. He helped by telling the children to make way for Santa, clearing a path for Yukimura to the empty throne.

“Finally,” Jackal sighed with relief. The antler headband had slipped halfway down his head. “Yagyuu is ready with the camera. I don’t see why all of you had to go to fetch Sanada’s costume.”

“I for one, wanted to see you in your element. Nice work, Jackal,” Marui laughed and gave him a pat, as if he completed an assignment that Marui had given him personally.

In response, Jackal pushed a basket full of miniature candy canes into the arms of the self-proclaimed genius. “And now it’s your turn. Help me hand out those to the people who have been waiting.”

“Yukimura, we should begin as soon as possible,” Yagyuu said, casually holding the all-important camera away from Niou’s prying fingers. The trickster wanted to see if Yagyuu had taken any beautiful selfies while they were away. Giving his partner a pointed look, Yagyuu said, “And you need to put your costume on, Masaharu.”

“Isn’t it cliché, for me to be an elf?” Niou drawled, leaning against the railing.

Yukimura’s peaceful smile sharpened at the edges. “Would you rather work the register as Mrs Claus?”

“I shave for no man, buchou, not even you,” Niou put a regretful hand over his heart.

“Then get on with it,” Yukimura said. The plush, red coat billowed out behind him, a magnificent royal cape benefitting the golden throne and line of worshippers that awaited him. “Let’s check my list, shall we?”

With that, they got organized. Rikkai executed Christmas cheer with the same efficiency applied to tennis practice. Yanagi set the plans, Sanada enforced them, and Yukimura sat, quite literally, upon a golden throne at the very center of chaos. 

While most of the children were reasonably behaved, they were still children. The little boy that Marui returned to his parents clutched a fistful of pink hair for a prize. He sighed and fluffed up his bangs. “Hey Jackal, let’s go to Cinnabon after this. I held back because I was worried that without my genius, you’d be overrun with children,” he said, already thinking of his reward.

“It’s more likely that he simply wants to eat two shares instead of one,” Yanagi pointed out, not bothering to lower his voice. The child squirming in his arms clouded the dataman’s usual serene expression.

“Santa!” the girl insisted, clawing at Yanagi to get at Yukimura, who was occupied with hearing a little boy’s list of video games.

“If you don’t wait patiently for Santa, Rudolph is going to bite you,” Yanagi pointed over the little girl’s shoulder at Sanada, who glowered with an intensity to rival the bright red pom pom on his nose.

Shrieking, the girl beat on Yanagi’s shoulders all the way to Yukimura. Santa tried to calm down the precious customer with soothing tones and the promise of gifts; unfortunately, his work was negated by the enthusiastic scowl of Rudolph just behind the throne.

Delighting in the chaos, Niou strolled up to Yanagi and said, “You’re going to be a wonderful father someday, dataman.”

“I’ll devote my life to science,” Yanagi said blandly.

“Senpai!” Kirihara said with alarm, startling some nearby children. The bells on his costume chimed out his anxiety. “You absolutely can’t quit tennis!”

Brows arching slightly, Yanagi asked, “Oh? And what would you do if I did?”

“I would bring you back,” said Kirihara. Quite obviously unsure of how, he blurted out, “My tennis would become so fascinating that you can’t look away!”

“That’s quite the devotion, naah, Kabaji?”

“Usu.”

At the front of the long, thick line of festive families stood Atobe Keigo, flanked by Kabaji and Oshitari on either side. Atobe cut a striking figure in his fur lined jacket and elegant uniform. Hyoutei’s captain couldn’t have blended into the Christmas crowd if he tried, even without Kabaji’s reassuring bulk at his back.

“But I really don’t lose to Yanagi-san in that regard,” Atobe commented, inclining his head minutely toward Kabaji.

Oshitari chuckled. “Still, it’s a lovely confession. We walked in on an opportune moment,” Oshitari said.

“Oi, what’s Atobe doing here?” Marui popped his gum.

Atobe primly double-checked his glorious reflection in a hand-held mirror. Without eye contact, he retorted, “Isn’t it obvious? All 200 members of the Hyoutei tennis club will receive a picture of Ore-sama with Santa this year.”

“We were very bad boys,” Oshitari drawled.

“So it would seem,” Yagyuu smirked.

“Oh no, Fukubuchou,” Niou called to Sanada. “Isn’t this situation like your wife meeting your mistress?”

“Will it end in a six legged tango, or a tragic one?” Oshitari put a hand over his heart.

“Only the end of the dance will tell,” Yagyuu took the picture like the hero he was.

“Niou!” scolded Sanada, red faced and grumpy in his hooded costume. “Atobe, you have to wait in line.”

Atobe huffed and looked vaguely behind him. Then, he said loudly, “I will be paying for all of your pictures today – allow me to go first without protest.”

Despite Atobe’s strange entrance, the crowd cheered at his words. It was worth another minute or two of waiting to get their pictures free of charge.

With that small matter handled, Atobe regarded Sanada with a regal stare. “Now, Rudolph-san, I will have you make use of that nose and escort me to Santa.”

Though Sanada looked very much like he wanted to roll his eyes, he held back and stoically brought Atobe to Yukimura.

Yukimura’s eyes twinkled behind round frames, but it was probably something a little more violent than Christmas cheer. “My, what a big boy.”

“What a puny Santa,” Atobe returned.

Yukimura chuckled, “I don’t suppose that I have to ask if you were naughty or nice.”

“Ore-sama has nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Then you have no reason to fear my lap,” Yukimura patted his thigh in challenge.

As Captain, Atobe could not help but answer. Fortunately for everyone except Sanada, the camera was well manned.

 

~~~

 

Kamio was in the rhythm. Jingle-bells blared through the mall speakers as he hurried back from the storeroom with the requested wares. The replenished supply of candy canes within his basket danced with every step, threatening to jingle-suicide when he went down the stairs. Somehow, he made it back to the tall Christmas tree with no sweet left behind. He smiled to An, who was very comely and in charge behind the register as Mrs Claus. Ibu, Morii, and Ishida were navigating children around the bearded and jolly version of Tachibana. The members of Fudomine thought that it really suited him to sit on a throne and act so saintly to children. Perhaps they could persuade the mall to offer the chair as a prize for the clubroom if they won the contest.

“Sorry to make you wait,” Kamio said. The springy antlers bounced when he bowed his head. “Morii, Ishida. You guys can go take lunch now.”

“We’ll be in the food court then,” Ishida said, clapping Kamio on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince a bit.

“Do you think he touches his mother with that much force?” Ibu wondered aloud. Ishida’s retreating back stiffened. “I thought that would sound as good as _do you kiss your mother with that mouth_ , but it doesn’t quite. Ishida should come back and say something foul to you, Kamio, so I can apply the phrase correctly.”

“There’s too many children around for that,” Kamio scolded Ibu. He traded his basket of candy canes for the kid standing next to Ibu, looking a little lost.

“Ah, next time,” Ibu said, watching Kamio bring his charge to Tachibana. He decided to take the candy canes seriously and distributed them out to the waiting customers. The remaining members of Fudomine happily dedicated themselves to organizing and assisting the children on and off of Santa’s lap. Even as they squirmed and shouted, most of them seemed to have proper awe of Tachibana and his soothing smile.

Until someone didn’t. A familiar, nasally voice came from the back of the line and cut through the Christmas mood.

“Oi, Echizen. You’re smaller than some of these kids – sit on Santa’s lap and pass a message for me, won’t you?” Momoshiro asked. His sister and brother shuffled forward in line without him and craned their necks to see how long until they could visit Santa.

Echizen tilted his head toward the younger kids, who were more eager to meet the big guy, “Ask your siblings.”

“No way!” Momo crossed his arms. “We’re here to escort them properly, not take their precious wishes! I’d be a failure of a big brother.”

“You are anyway.” Echizen’s evidence: the two kids had broken away from line to eagerly take candy canes from Sakurai’s basket. “You’re just here to see Tachibana’s sister dressed up.”

“Well yeah, I MEAN -- You take that back!”

“Yadda,” Echizen showed Momo his back, but only went as far as the bench a few yards away from the line.

Ibu had been helping children off of Tachibana’s lap and reuniting them with their parents, but immediately abandoned post at the sound of Echizen’s voice.

“Hey, Shinji, where are you going!” Sakurai called out. When the children noticed his distraction, they took candy canes by the handful and stuffed their pockets.

Completely ignoring the question, Ibu made a beeline for Echizen and promptly sat on the shorter boy. Echizen startled out of his relaxed position and looked at Ibu as if he grew an extra tennis racket for a head.

“Get off,” Echizen shoved ineffectually at Ibu.

“No,” Ibu grabbed the collar of Echizen’s Seigaku polo and fixed him with an intense stare. “I want that roll of grip tape for Christmas.”

The surprise faded from Echizen’s face. He fought Ibu’s passion with a self-satisfied smirk. “It’s already half used, get off.”

Ibu wasn’t ready to give up the ghost of griptape past. The genius’ hands were taking the price out of Echizen’s uniform shirt; did he really even need that griptape, with that kind of power? “Then the second half. And another roll exactly the same kind to compensate. I regret allowing you to take it from me that time, so please do something about it.”

“I don’t want to,” Echizen looked away stubbornly.

Kamio came running to his friend. “Hey Shinji, you can’t be doing this here. We have a job to do.”

“Akira, things like grip tape transcend Christmas. Unless they wish to add it to the three wise men story. They could bring three rolls of grip tape to the child Christ…”

“Oi, Momoshiro. Take responsibility for your kouhai!” Kamio yelled.

“Me?! Echizen wouldn't convey my wish to Santa, so he can lose his innocence just like that, yes he can,” Momo crossed his arms.

“You’re really not going to do anything about that?”

“Nope! What would you have me do?!”

“Sacrifice your body!” Kamio demanded and pushed Momoshiro toward the tangled pair. There were three screams and a giant puff of fake snow as they tumbled over into the winter wonderland.

Kamio clapped his hands of the matter and said, “If you’re going to be a vice-captain, you have to learn to get things done.”

“…Then what are you going to do about that mess?” Sakurai asked.

“Looks like it’s your turn to sacrifice your body,” Tachibana said, stealing a moment for a drink of water. “Sakurai, please bring up the next family while Kamio cleans.”

“Yes, Tachibana-san!”

 

~~~

 

“Karaage! Please try our karaage!”

In the bustling food court, a cute part time worker advertised her wares to the crowd. Many stopped by to sample the fried chicken.

The woman’s smile flickered when she noticed a white-haired man in a black hat reaching for a toothpick.

“Haven’t I seen you before?”

“Tarundoru,” he said, and slipped away with a piece. A man with familiar, mysteriously opaque glasses followed, and said _adieu_ before she could ask anything more.

“Unfair…” Kirihara seethed, crushing his empty can. Yagyuu and Niou were definitely getting more out of their lunch break.

“The one with the baby stroller was particularly good,” An commented, startling Kirihara from his envy. His frozen expression of mingled surprise and fury prompted her to point toward the destroyed can, “That belongs in recycling.” 

“I- I know that!” Kirihara insisted.

While Kirihara tossed the can in question, An approached closer to watch Niou, clad in a beanie stolen from a pouty teen, make a successful fifth attempt.

“I think…the shopkeeper knows,” Kirihara said, refusing to look at An. The Mrs Claus costume was super effective.

“Obviously,” An gestured, defending the intelligence of the young woman. “But what can she say to a customer?”

“Quite well played, there’s no escape now,” Yagyuu said, words smooth and clean as a click of handcuffs. When the pair turned toward his voice, he pushed up his glasses.

Kirihara blinked. “That’s…” he searched for a more manly word than terrifying. “A weird line.”

Glasses taking on an ominous gleam, Yagyuu pointed up at the kissing ball hanging between Kirihara and An. “Unexpectedly smooth of you, Kirihara-kun.”

“WHAT?!” Kirihara looked up at the ball and back down at Yagyuu. Then repeated, “What?!”

“You’re not really my type either,” An crossed her arms and sized up the boy who had once been her enemy.

Kirihara stammered, wavering under four discerning eyes. “I – I never said that.”

Yagyuu pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps I spoke too soon,” he murmured to himself.

“So you’re not too scared?” An asked. She was unable to resist teasing the wound up devil of a boy.

“Scared! I ain’t scared of anything.”

An curved out a hip and lifted a finger to the corner of her pretty, curved mouth; in that dress, it was a battle pose fatal to men everywhere. “So you’re going to kiss me, then?”

The pink of Kirihara’s features graduated to a violent red.

“Could it be, Kirihara-kun, that you’ve never kissed anyone?” Yagyuu said.

“Oi!” Kirihara whirled around to glare at the gentleman. “I’ve kissed hundreds of girls!”

“Hundreds?”

“…Six?” Kirihara tried. Yagyuu looked at his kouhai with pity.

“Is that so?” An said with a giggle. “I’ve kissed six people.” Her particular emphasis on six hinted that the true number might be higher.

Unable to take that defeat, Kirihara said, “I – I could kiss way more people than you. I’ve just never tried.” He crossed his arms, firmly ignoring the kissing ball above them.

“Don’t be so fragile in your masculinity, Kirihara-kun. I suggest that you cede this title to the lady,” Yagyuu drawled. “She seems experienced in these matters.”

“Thank you.” An offered a little curtsy.

“Of course.”

At that, Kirihara seethed at his senpai. Flailing, he insisted, “I’m a great kisser. The best kisser!”

“Unfortunately, you lack proof. Tachibana-chan is more credible. Unless…” Yagyuu looked down his nose, shadowing his face like a proper villain in glasses. “You’re willing to prove it with your body.” 

“By…kissing Tachibana-san?”

“Hmm…I’m afraid it will take more than that, since she has quite the count on you.”

“How about this?” An proposed, fingertip aloft in a smooth _ah hah_ motion. “Whomever kisses the most people by the end of this workday is the winner.

“An interesting proposition. Do you intend to impose stakes on Kirihara-kun?”

Playing into Yagyuu’s bullying, she looked him up and down. “I’m not sure it’s fair, at this point. He doesn’t seem very confident.”

Chest puffing up, Kirihara insisted, “I’m confident!”

“If you were to _quantify_ that confidence?” Yagyuu said, a pensive knuckle under his chin.

“When I win, I’ll take you on the best date you’ve ever been on!”

With that declaration of manliness, Kirihara grabbed An by the shoulders and crushed their lips together. While it wasn’t quite gentle, there was a certain charm to Kirihara’s clumsy, defensive front.

However, that charm did not reach Ishida and Morii, who had just entered the food court for lunch hour. They froze, petrified with anger and shock to see the little sister of their beloved captain so accosted.

“Kirihara!” Ishida pushed up the sleeve of his brown reindeer costume and charged. Revealing the guns wasn’t an idle threat for the power player. “You get you hands off of her!”

Kirihara was too dazed to reply with anything except for a rapid series of blinks. He simply stood there until Ishida came at him, fist raised for a one hit KO. The moment awareness hit, Kirihara dodged into Ishida’s space and kissed him too.

The force of impact made it more of a headbutt than a kiss. Ishida’s eyes blew open and he shoved Kirihara back. Both parties were bleeding slightly from the lips. 

Licking up his own blood (or Ishida’s), Kirihara turned to An and said, “HAH! I’m winning! Take that.”

An covered her mouth to hide her amusement. It took a moment to gain composure. “Ishida-kun,” she came toward her classmate. “Are you all right?”

Ishida looked too stricken and confused to fight for the virginity of his lips. “An-chan?”

“Thank you,” she reached up to brush blood from his lip with her thumb. “Even though I wasn’t in danger, I appreciate your feelings.” Even though Ishida was still in shock from Kirihara’s kiss, An went on her toes to take her turn. By contrast, her soft, chaste kiss to the very corner of Ishida’s lips seemed to cleanse Kirihara’s violence.

When she pulled back, she soothingly stroked Ishida’s chest. Though the power player looked just about ready to combust, An ignored him to look over her shoulder and grin at Kirihara, “One and one. If you really want to take me on that date, you’d better hurry.”

Kirihara startled out of his rapture. He couldn’t seem to decide if he was experiencing jealousy or the heat of competition. Picking up his jingle-bell hat from the table and shoving it on his head, Kirihara wiped the blood from his lips and said, “I’ll kiss so many people that you’re going to be the one begging _me_ for a date!”

Then, Kirihara disappeared into the crowd with heavy, festive stomps of his belled slippers.

“Don’t worry, Ishida-nii. I’ll avenge your first kiss,” An promised with a disarming smile. 

As she set forth in the opposite direction as Kirihara, Ishida remained. Morii poked, shook, and whacked the taller boy and received no response. It seemed that Ishida had reached enlightenment and severed his contact with the physical world.

“I had better tell Tachibana-san about this,” Morii said, and ran off for back up.

Morii ran directly past Niou. The trickster popped the last free sample in his mouth and sashayed over to Yagyuu. When Niou stood directly under the mistletoe, Yagyuu regarded him flatly and took a few measured steps away.

“ _Come here rude boy, boy_ ,” Niou sing-songed and beckoned with a dirty toothpick.

Yagyuu didn’t budge. “I shouldn’t have tutored you in English.”

Niou grinned and reclined luxuriously against the pole behind him. Tossing the toothpick neatly into the trash, he said, “Marui taught me that one – I wouldn’t be so full of yourself if I were you.”

Yagyuu tilted his head to the side, spilling brown locks in a smooth flow across his forehead. The angle showed off his cool, pointed features. “Full of myself?”

“They both kissed Hadoukyuu boy over _you_ ,” Niou leaned into Yagyuu’s space and said slowly, “Dork.”

Yagyuu straightened, glasses going opaque once more. “Your breath is terrible.” Turning on freshly shined dress shoes, Yagyuu showed Niou his back. “Don’t pine too long under the mistletoe. Yukimura-kun is waiting for us downstairs.

It was only when he was a few paces from Niou that a shark-like smile molded his features.

 

~~~

 

Ambushing people under the mistletoe was more difficult than Kirihara anticipated. He had been slapped four times. Abandoned under the mistletoe six times. Kissed on the cheek once. All in all, he had only upped his count by one. And that was because he accidentally crashed a couple under the mistletoe. The long-braid girl had panicked and shoved him into Echizen, much to the annoyance of some pigtailed cheerleader type.

In his defense, Kirihara didn’t believe that he deserved that twist-serve to the face. But he had more important things to worry about, like getting more kisses with a stupid black eye. Like the fact that Tachibana An was burying him. To no surprise, a cute, faux bashful girl under the mistletoe gathered more enthusiasm. Yukimura would have to forgive his afternoon disappearance – he had the honor of Rikkai to uphold!

As he passed the Fudomine display, Kirihara’s eyes stopped on Ibu.

“An-chan still hasn’t come back for lunch,” he muttered, taking money from the customer. He stared off into space through the transaction, ignoring the parents of an adorable toddler. “Morii said that Kirihara kissed her. Maybe she’s still in the bathroom. I hear that girls like to cry in there. And after crying, she might have to fix her makeup. I don’t think An-chan wears too much makeup, though. If she does, I’m very impressed with her natural look. It takes my sister an entire hour to look so natural. I should ask Tachibana-san how long it takes An-chan to apply her makeup, so we can estimate how long she’s been crying over Kirihara. Then Kamio will know exactly how long he should be yelling at him.”

The waiting parents impatiently took the ticket from Ibu and ushered their child forward as swiftly as the occasion allowed. Every facet of their body language suggested total regret in coming to the mall that day.

“Oh, there’s Kirihara,” Ibu said blandly. “Perhaps he came to finish off Ishida. I don’t think I’ve seen him look that pale since the car accident.”

Kamio had been chatting up the sweet little boy to stall for Tachibana, but at Ibu’s words, the he jumped up with urgency. The reindeer was ready to spring into action at any time!

Not wanting to be held up by a scene, Kirihara tried to shuffle quickly through the crowd. But he wasn’t nearly as quick as Fudomine’s Kamio. When Kamio charged at him with all the rage and precision of a bull, he turned to catch the blow. They crashed through the recently repaired display and rolled, destroying prettily wrapped cardboard boxes and sending tinsel flying into the air to sprinkle over them when they came to a stop in the fake snow with Kamio on top, staring down at Kirihara with eyes full of rage.

“I hate this as much as you do,” Kirihara snarled and grabbed the collar of Kamio’s reindeer costume to pull him down for a brutal kiss. There were gasps, and even a shriek, as the crowd beheld the strange Christmas elf and Reindeer pair.

Ibu helpfully picked up a sign with a picture of Tachibana’s Santa on it and held it up in front of the kissing duo. “This isn’t very appropriate for children, Akira. If you’re trying to take revenge, please do it elsewhere. Or in a more appropriate way. You could, for example, gift Kirihara an alarm clock. I feel that would be a good punishment.”

Kamio leaped back from Kirihara into a pile. He touched his mouth and screeched like a tormented barn owl. The antlers had drooped off to the side of his bright red face.

“Why is the reindeer sad, mommy?” asked the kid, nervous for the nice reindeer who had stroked his hair and asked him about his Christmas fun.

Ever the hero, Tachibana stood from his throne. A vision of all that was red, regal, and kind, he kneeled before the little boy. “You’re sweet to be so worried,” he offered him a candy cane. “But it’s all right. The elf just surprised the reindeer with a show of affection, isn’t that right?”

The smile that Tachibana gave Kamio and Kirihara was as terrifying as being across the net from an angry Yukimura.

Red-faced, Kamio bolted up on his captain’s order. Through gritted teeth, he insisted, “Y-yes, Tachi – Santa-san! Everything is all right.”

“Good,” Tachibana’s expression reverted to its peaceful state to regard the small customer. “Now, little sir, why don’t you go and wait with that elf over there,” with a gloved hand, he pointed over to Morii.

Brightened by Santa’s words, the boy nodded and toddled off to wait with Morii, who would get a preview of his Christmas list.

“Now, Kirihara-kun,” Tachibana said, fake beard doing nothing to mitigate the severity of his stare. He glided toward his throne with purpose and sat down. With a pat of his leather glove to the thigh, he summoned Kirihara to his lap.

Kirihara grimaced, mouth stretching wide like a frog’s. “What?”

Though Tachibana was perfectly composed, there was something fierce in his manner that couldn’t be denied. “To determine whether you’ve been naughty or nice.” With as much Christmas cheer as a public execution, Kirihara marched to Santa and purposely sat on the knee he had injure a year prior.

The jolly Tachibana who laughed for the children died abruptly in an onslaught of chilly words. “I’ll ask you once. Why did you kiss my sister? And then go on kiss Tetsu and ambush Akira?”

Though he looked very much like he wanted to run away from the fearsome questions, Kirihara crossed his arms like a scolded child and muttered something about mistletoe and promiscuous girls.

“ _Excuse me_ , I couldn't quite hear that,” Tachibana asked. While Tachibana wore a quietly fearsome expression, Kamio’s face promised open murder the moment that Kirihara left the sanctuary of that lap.

“I’ll never tell!” Kirihara said, deciding on a twisted sort of honor. He might have declared more choice words, but the eyes of cute children and agitated parents gave him pause. “Er…” he looked from the kids to Tachibana. “You’ll just have to guess what I want for Christmas.”

He kissed Tachibana on the corner of the lips and all but ran from his lap, the display, and all of the vocalized shock.

Among the clamor, he recognized a strained shriek, “Get back here!”

Kirihara’s face fell and feet quickened. “Dammit, you speed freak,” he said, and started weaving through the crowd to counter Kamio’s rush. With every maneuver, he was slowed by a stray shopping bag or some bit of a fur scarf that came away in his gnashing teeth. Kamio kept chase and maintained his straight line by running into and tripping over everything and everyone in his path. Even as Kamio plowed over a mannequin, Kirihara simply couldn’t lose him. The damn redhead was just too fast.

As he ducked under an arm and curved to avoid whacking some kid in a stroller, Kirihara noticed that everyone was looking up.

“How romantic.”

“What a beautiful couple under the mistletoe.”

Kirihara looked up, and was paralyzed by the sight of Yukimura and An, smiling and sharing soft, flirtatious sort of laugh under a kissing ball. Tachibana tucked a strand of straight, smooth hair behind her ear and Yukimura stepped closer to the inviting gesture. When Kirihara opened his mouth to call to them, Kamio barreled into his back at full charge, knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Kirihara!” Kamio roared directly into his ear.

Before the incited redhead could add his fist to the damage, Kirihara pried a hand free to point above. “We have bigger problems, idiot!”

“Who are you calling an --” Kirihara forcibly tilted Kamio’s jaw up, directing his attention to the real situation. Kamio’s shock made him look like a reindeer stress ball, with his big bug eyes ready to pop right out of his head.

“AN-CHAN HAS BEEN CAPTURED BY RIKKAI!”

As his mind sprinted to completely the wrong conclusion, Kamio’s body followed. He scrambled up. Determined, Fudomine’s vice-captain half-ran, half-climbed the going down escalator. His urgency nearly knocked down shoppers and precious bags packed with goods. A bag of wrapping tissue and ribbon spilled over the side, and blew over to shower all of the people going up.

On the correct escalator, Kirihara cursed and flailed to get the stupid bits of paper out of his hair. “You idiot!” he accused, glaring to the adjacent redhead that was swimming up stream. “Get out of my way,” he ducked under a couple holding hands and elbowed some old lady’s bum on his way to the top.

“Shut up!” Kamio hissed, finally clawing at the level ground. The people lined up at the escalator looked at him funny, but he got up and ran single-mindedly toward An-chan.

An beckoned Yukimura with doe eyes and parted lips. As she touched his chest and went on her toes, Rikkai’s captain raised an elegant hand to sweep her jaw and leaned in for a sweet--

“AN-CHAN!” 

“BUCHOU!”

Kamio exclaimed. Kirihara sprinted at his side. They shoved at each other, seeking to throw the other off even as they barreled toward the couple.

It was all very unfortunate.

Though Kamio had clearly intended to only separate the pair, he succeeded in pouncing An to the ground. Whether by An’s maneuvering or Kamio’s clumsiness, their lips knocked together in a rough kiss. And stayed there for a long moment. Then, as if threatened by lightning, Kamio jumped up and offered a jumbled mess of words for an apology to a very amused Mrs Claus. 

Kirihara blinked his green eyes with shock. He stared down, aghast at the beautiful man attached to his own lips. As kissing Yukimura probably came before the four horsemen of the apocalypse, he sensed disaster before it came.

Sanada grabbed Kirihara by the collar and bodily flung him from Yukimura. “How dare you!” he growled, and made to help Yukimura up.

Unimpressed, Yukimura ignored Sanada’s outstretched hand. He brushed off his trousers and simply said, “Why are you not at the display? Don’t tell me that you assigned Renji to play Santa?”

The speaking look that Yukimura gave Sanada showed how little he thought of that plan.

Sanada shook his head. He opened his mouth to explain but Tachibana, flanked by stern security guards, beat him to it.

“Actually, we’ve been dismissed. Apparently, our members have been tearing through the mall.” Kamio shrunk with guilt.

“And sexually harassing shoppers.” Kirihara looked away and An scratched her head sheepishly.

“Ruining expensive displays and behaving inappropriately in front of children. Terrorizing children,” Tachibana looked pointedly at Kamio and Ibu. Kirihara slowly stepped behind a shameless Yanagi.

“Stealing from the food court,” Sanada growled. Yagyuu pushed up his glasses and Niou looked oh so fascinated by the ends of his scarf.

“It…” Kirihara tried to explain the lot of it, but his mouth was strangely numb.

Sanada shoved at Kirihara’s back. “What are you waiting for? 100 laps around the entire mall, unless you want to be the one to pay for our equipment.”

“For _everyone_ ,” both Captains echoed, quite in synch as they seemed to grow large and dark in their costumes, the embodiment of a true nightmare before Christmas.

 

~~~

 

The sun was setting and they were still nowhere near done with the amount of laps they had been assigned. Rikkai and Fudomine ran the same course, grouped with their staggered paces for the punishing march.

But Kirihara still had questions to be answered. It had taken the better part of an hour to recover the use of his tongue.

“Tachibana-chan!” Kirihara called, butting Kamio with his shoulder to run next to An. He ignored Kamio’s indignant shout. “About our contest. I kissed--”

“It’s draw,” An interrupted him. Her eyes twinkled with mischief and she continued, “If you want to ask me out on a date, Kirihara-kun, you had better do it properly.”

She winked slyly and dashed ahead. Despite the Mrs Claus getup, she was quick in her tennis shoes. Before Kirihara could run after her, Kamio gave him a mighty shove on the shoulder, threatening to send him flying on the asphalt. Rikkai’s devil pushed back, and the pair fell behind for their wrestling.

“Haven’t you harassed our team enough for one day! Leave An-chan alone!”

“Shut up you speed freak!”

As he ran by, step for step with Niou, Yagyuu said, “I suppose this would be the opportune moment to say _mada mada dane._ ”

Niou grinned and adjusted an invisible hat. “Puri.”


End file.
